William. A slow sowing and a quick reaping, John.
John. ’Tis to be hoped as ’twill be the same with the lady, master.
William. There, off you go, John. And mind, ’tis her with the cherry ribbon to her gown and bonnet.
John. Why, master, and her might have a different ribbon to her head this day, being that ’tis Thursday?
William. An eye like—like a bullace, John. And a grand colour to the face of her like yon rose.
John. That’s enough, Master William. I’ll not pitch upon the wrong maid, never fear. And now I’ll clean myself up a bit at the pump, and set off straight away.
William. [Shaking John’s hand.] Good luck to you, my man. And if you can bring it off quiet and decent like without me coming in till at the last, why, ’tis a five pound note that you shall have for your trouble.
John. You be a grand gentleman to serve, Master William, and no mistake about that.
[Curtain.]